Melt My Heart Page 5
“It’s just a book, Cole.”
He clears his throat and seems to have recovered from the initial shock. “Is that what you dream about? Some passionate kiss under the stars?”
My cheeks heat because for a split second in my head Cole and I were acting out the story. “It’s just a book,” I repeat. If he had seen the book I read last week about swamp creatures, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.
I clutch the coffee to my chest and am positive he’s about to rag on me because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable. Instead, he moves from the comfy chair next to the window and sits on the cushion next to me.
Right next to me.
“If you ever want to know what a real kiss is, all you have to do is ask.” His fingers brush against the fluffy fabric encasing my leg, drawing my attention to the fact that I’m wearing pajamas that feature unicorns farting rainbows. Now I can’t remember why I thought they were so funny.
“I—” I rapidly blink, unable to finish the sentence because there is no way he said what I think he said. In all the years of us being friends, he’s never flirted with me. Not even in a joking manner.
His perfect teeth make an appearance as he grins, and it’s what I need. An ice bucket of water to my overheating brain, snapping me back to reality—one where he isn’t flirting with me. He’s screwing with me. He thinks I read these books because I can’t get a guy to kiss me. Which, for the record, is not true. I’ve had my share of make-out sessions, I just never wanted to tell him about them.
“Ha-ha, so funny.” I shove his hand off me and stand. “Don’t you have a mountain to ski down? Or some jocks to bro out with?”
“Sammy, wait.” He catches my hand as I turn to leave, and I swear I jump as if he electrocuted me. His face falls at my reaction. “I was just playing around. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Ah, salt in the wound. No way in hell Cole could ever mean to flirt with me. “Well, it’s not funny. Who says stuff like that, anyway? You forget that I’ve known you since we were six, and well, let’s just say, I see how much drool you can produce while sleeping. Pretty sure kissing you would be like kissing a Saint Bernard.”
His mouth drops open, and a few sleepy kids glance our way. “You did not just say that.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’d say that’s an accurate description. We all saw you in action at Cory Heffer’s house during spin the bottle and well…” I fake yawn, adding in a mouth tap for effect.
“Take it back.” As he moves toward me, I step backward.
“No way. I can’t take back the truth.”
He lunges at me, and I stumble, giggling. I may still be hurt by his words, but no way am I going to let him catch me. I’ve always been the fastest while he’s been the strongest. His catching me means one thing—some form of torture. No way I’m letting that happen.
Turning I shove past two girls from my gym class, ignoring their annoyed words as I race through the lobby. There are two choices. Make it to my room, which means waiting for the elevator, or making it outside. No way will Cole follow me out there in his jammies.
With a plan in place, I turn right and head toward the glass doors that lead out to where the buses dropped us off yesterday. Two steps from freedom, he tugs on the back of my shirt. I squeal and draw an angry look from the lady at the front desk. If Mr. Holt catches us acting like this, we will be on probation for the remainder of the trip. For me, that would be a bonus, but Cole would never let it go.
So I pick up speed, and his hand releases my shirt before it rips. I make it out into the freezing morning air and don’t even hesitate as I stomp through the fresh snow. At least out here, we can’t get in trouble. Not that I expect him to follow.
As soon as that thought pops into my head, I hear him burst outside.
Surprised and knowing he’ll catch me any second, I stoop down midstride and scoop up a handful of snow, packing it into a ball as I round the corner. Two seconds later, when Cole’s face comes into view, I let the snowball go, and it nails him in the forehead.
His eyes widen in surprise then narrow. “You’re going to regret that.”
A shiver rolls up my spine as the snow soaks through the canvas shoes I threw on this morning with no intention of stepping foot outside. “You’ll never catch me.”
The tips of his ears turn pink as he bends down to scoop up an armload of snow. We’re already soaked to the bone, so it doesn’t matter that he holds it to his chest as he stalks toward me.
“Don’t you dare.” I duck left, but he follows, with an evil glint in his eye. To my right is the lodge, a place he’ll for sure follow with his giant snowball. To my back is a wall. I’m trapped.
At the last second, I scoop up an armload of snow and toss it at him. All it does it make him laugh. A second later, my whole body is shivering as snow slides down my shirt and into my pants. On a ragged gasp I lose my balance. My hand scrapes down the wall as I try to right myself, but all that seems to do is send me sideways. Right before my butt hits the ice-covered ground, my left ankle turns at a weird angle, and something pops, sending a burning pain up my calf.
“Ahh!” My tailbone hits the hard concrete as I grab my ankle, wincing when it makes the pain worse.
Cold snow forgotten, I sit there and breathe through clenched teeth as Cole kneels next to me.
“Are you okay?”
“I twisted my ankle.” All the falling and bruising from yesterday’s disaster on the bunny hill must have left it weak. Never in my life have I twisted my ankle, and we did some pretty dumb stuff as kids.
“Hold on.” He grabs my arm, slinging it over his shoulder before lifting me up. I hiss as I try to put some weight on it.
“At least it happened in the freezing snow. Instant ice pack.” I try to make light of the situation, but Cole’s not laughing. He’s got a deep-set frown going on that wrinkles the space between his eyebrows.
“I wonder if they have a doctor or something here. People get hurt on the mountain all the time.”
“It’s not that bad.” I take a step then regret my words. I broke my finger once. This pain is somehow much worse.
We hobble our way inside with Cole supporting most of my weight. I’m trying to ignore the way our sides rub with each step and the sensation of his hands resting on my ribs and wrist, but my body can’t stop taking notice. Quite the confusing combination of pain and excitement.
I want to say we snuck our way in, but that’s not what happens. Half of the class is up now. When we burst through the doors with me grunting and both of us sopping wet, everyone in the lobby stops to stare.
I couldn’t be any more mortified if I tried.
“What happened?” Mrs. Clark asks as she makes her way to us.
“She twisted her ankle.”
“Oh, dear. Let’s elevate it.” Mrs. Clark rushes into the lounge where I see her gathering pillows on the couch I was occupying before Cole interrupted me.
I shiver, and Cole hugs me tighter. “We’ll get some ice on it.”
Warm clothes are what I need. Ice can wait. “I need to change out of these wet clothes before I catch pneumonia.”
He stops midstride and glances down as if he just realized how wet we are from the impromptu snowball fight. “I’ll help you upstairs.” He pivots toward the lounge. “She needs to change,” he calls to Mrs. Clark, who drops two of the seven pillows she gathered on the couch, seeming to mull over what he said.
“Okay. Drop her off and head right downstairs for breakfast.”
I laugh because I know what’s going through her head. There’s no need to worry though because in no universe would Cole and me be sneaking off to mess around.
“Sure thing.” He doesn’t wait for her to say anything else as he helps me to the elevator.
I’m thankful that the rest of our classmates are either already skiing or sleeping. Enough people saw the scene downstairs. I’ll die if this sad tale is repeated until we graduate.
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By the time we get to my room, I’m shivering from pain and my wet clothes. Cole doesn’t hesitate as he reaches into my pants pocket and pulls out my keycard. I’m just praying the snow didn’t ruin it.
We both let out an audible sigh as the door clicks open. Lucy is gone from what I can tell and even if she wasn’t, Cole doesn’t seem to care. He barges inside and deposits me on the bed closest to the door. It happens to be Lucy’s bed, but at this point, I wouldn’t care if it belonged to Ian. My ankle is throbbing and somehow radiates heat despite how cold I am, which can’t be good.
“Clothes?”
I point to the duffel bag sitting on the one chair in the room. I had plenty of free time yesterday and should have unpacked, but I figured there was no point since I have to pack it up again in a few days. Now I wish I had because Cole is riffling around inside and is bound to come face-to-face with one of my bras or a pair of undies. Then I might die of embarrassment.
From where he stands, he tosses over a heather gray T-shirt followed by a pair of jeans and the socks he bought me. I look from the clothes on the ruffled green comforter to his face. No way in hell am I changing in front of him, and I can’t very well hobble my way to the bathroom. So I motion to the door, hoping he gets the hint.
A lightbulb goes off, and he takes a step toward the door. “I’ll just be right outside. Holler once you’re done.” On his way out, he swipes the key card from the TV stand.
Changing takes way longer than normal, but after a few curses and almost falling on my face when I try to pull on the jeans, I get everything on. Except for the socks. My ankle is already bruising and is at least two times its normal size.
Not good.
“Ready,” I call as I hop my way over to my bed.
Cole doesn’t hesitate to enter. The next thing I know, I’m sitting down with my ankle in his lap. His jean-clad lap. He must have run to his room to change while I struggled with my clothes.
“Mrs. Clark found one of those bandage things. She said the medical team should be up shortly.” He shoves up the leg of my pants and winces when he sees how ugly my ankle looks. “This is bad.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Total lie, but there’s no reason to make him feel worse. I already know he blames himself.
He starts wrapping my ankle, being as gentle as possible and avoiding my gaze. “Now, you’re never going to make it out on to the mountain.”
“Oh, darn.” I pack my words with as much sarcasm as possible, and it wins me a smile.
When he finishes wrapping the injury, he rests his hands on my shin and sighs. “What are we going to do for four days now?”
I fluff one of the pillows behind my back, thankful I stole the extra one from the closet before Lucy got here. “What do you mean?”
The withered look he gives me almost makes me laugh. “I’m not ditching you after breaking you.”
“Technically, the cement and evil snow broke me. And you don’t have to stay and babysit me. I have plenty of books to keep me occupied on my—” I gasp and lean forward, ready to spring off the bed and run downstairs to grab my Kindle before it’s stolen. My ankle has other plans, though, and I growl in a mix of pain and frustration.
“Calm down.” Cole tosses something on to the comforter between us. “Mrs. Clark found it when she was making your pillow fort.”
Thank goodness. I spent most of my birthday money on this thing. “She’s probably waiting on the other side of the door, ready to burst in the moment we stop talking.”
We both laugh because there is a kernel of truth to my statement.
Armed with my Kindle once again, I lean against the headboard and give Cole’s leg a shove with my good foot. “Go ski. I’ll be fine for the afternoon.”
The crease between his eyebrows is back. If I don’t sell this, he’ll stick to my side like glue for the rest of the afternoon. “Go. I promise I’ll be fine. Eva has got to be missing me by now and will jump at the opportunity to FaceTime.”
Something washes over his features as the frown marring his gorgeous faces deepens. But after a few seconds he nods, and it disappears, replaced by his megawatt smile. “How about we do movies tonight? Just you and me.”
I doubt Mrs. Clark will go for that, but I nod anyway. I don’t want to be the reason he misses skiing. It will only make him resent me. “Sure.”
“After dinner? I’ll come help, so you don’t break another ankle getting down there.”
“Okay.” I nudge him again because he’s dragging this out. He wants to stay, but only because he feels responsible. If I hadn’t gotten hurt, he would already be out there having a blast with his other friends.
“I’ll keep my phone on me. Text if you need anything and I’ll be right in.”
“Go!” I swing a pillow at his face, but he easily dodges it as he hops up.
With one last smile, he heads for the door, leaving me alone for the afternoon. Part of me is a little bummed because I hadn’t planned on spending the whole time confined to in my room. Another part of me is totally stoked because now I have a good reason for bailing on the ski lessons my dad set up.
Sometimes the universe gives you what you want even if it’s in a messed-up way.
What seemed like an awesome afternoon to do whatever I wanted degraded until I’m about ready to go out of my mind. There’s nothing on TV, and the pain in my ankle is making it hard to concentrate on reading. The medical team assured me it’s a simple sprain, and just to ice it. Easy for them to say.
I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time alone in my life. Growing up with Cole and Eva meant they were always over at my house. When they weren’t, I always had my mom, who worked from home as some kind of business consultant.
Even my book boyfriends aren’t enough.
At one, I tried to FaceTime Eva, but she said she was busy cleaning out the garage, an added punishment after her parents found out she is on academic warning. She said she would call later, but I’m not holding my breath. We’ve all seen their garage.
Going downstairs sounds close to torture, but I’m also starving since the only thing I’ve put in my stomach all morning was coffee and the bag of gummy worms I brought for the bus ride then forgot about.
When my stomach grumbles for the fiftieth time, it decides for me. I’m not missing out on lunchtime because of a busted ankle. Besides, after popping an ibuprofen, it doesn’t hurt as bad. It’s still swollen, but I should be able to manage going downstairs.
I pull on a hoodie and hop my way over to the door. I’m sure I look like a total doof right now. But I’d rather not put weight on it until I have to, which is right about the time I’m around other people. The last thing I want to do is answer a bunch of questions.
Yet answering questions is what I do the second I step off the elevator and run into a group of kids coming inside from a morning on the slopes. They’re covered in fluffy white powder and look as if they’ve been having the time of their lives.
“Whoa, what happened to you?” A girl in all purple asks.
“Fell down the black diamond.” The lie slips past my lips before my brain processes the words.
Oh, well.
Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back almost as if I’m cursed, and she might catch it. “Really?
“Yeah, be careful.” I hobble past her, heading toward the lounge and hopefully something to snack on when I run into someone rounding the corner.
Hands shoot out to steady me. Normally I would be annoyed at being touched by a stranger, but I’m thankful to not fall on my butt once again. All I need is to hurt my other ankle. And let’s be honest, that would be my luck.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I glance up then almost swallow my tongue.
Piercing blue eyes peer down at me framed by a pair of Clark Kent-esque glasses. In a matter of seconds, I drink in the rest of his face. And oh, what a face. Square jaw. Pouty lips. A few freckles dot his nose, and I swear they’
re the sexiest freckles I’ve ever seen. He’s got a beanie on, covering his hair, but I’m assuming they must match the almost black color of his eyebrows.
When silence stretches between us, I’m aware of the way I’m gawking, but I can’t bring myself to care. Especially not when he smiles and flashes a set of dimples that could rival Alfred Enoch.
I think my mouth pops open because he chuckles and steps backward, giving me space to clear my head. For a second, all I can smell is peppermint. Either he lives at the North Pole or survives solely on the holiday spirt because even my house on Christmas morning doesn’t smell this good.
“What happened?” He nods toward the foot I’m babying. I wince not wanting to sound stupid explaining how I hurt it during a snowball fight.
“It’s dangerous out there,” is all I say. Let him assume what I mean.
“Yeah, snowboarding isn’t my thing, but friends dragged me up here.
“Same. Class trip.”
He glances around as if he’s just now noticing the lodge is packed with people our age. To be honest, I’m surprised he and his friends got rooms with how many of us are here.
“I was wondering where all the moms in hundred-dollar beanies and matching snowsuits went. Pretty cool your school puts on a trip.”
“Yeah.” I shrug because my lack of enthusiasm will be clear if I speak any further on the matter. “They do it every year.”
“What school do you go too?”
“Jordan High.”
His face lights up, giving me another glimpse of those amazing dimples. “I go to Valley.”
“Your football team whooped ours during the playoffs.”
He chuckles all deep and raspy, and I feel those butterflies reserved for Cole do a little dance in my stomach. It’s not the party they throw when he’s around, but they’re flapping for this stranger.
“Yeah, I call it luck because they normally choke under pressure.” When a group of kids push past us, the strange boy looks around as if he just now realizing we’re blocking the door to the lounge. “I was headed up to my room to veg out, but do you want to grab some cocoa and keep me company by the fire?”